After family day at school, I walked home. Which was a dumb idea. I have to be home by 5:30 everyday, no earlier or later. By the time I got home it was 5:34.
I put my key into the lock, taking a deep breath, I turned it and put my key back into my purse.
"Santana, I need to speak with you at the table please." My father said his voice unusually calm.
I quietly walk into the kitchen and took a seat on the other side of the table.
"Your teacher emailed me today. He said you got a 98 on your last pop quiz. Care to explain?" Papi (Daddy) looked at me expectantly.
I don't care. I really don't want to explain. Because no matter what I say I would still get beat tonight. This grade on top of being late. I'd be lucky if I could walk tomorrow.
"It was a pop quiz, Papi, I did not know there would be one so I never studied, lo siento. (sorry)" I tried to sound strong and stand my ground, but it came out as weak.
"Lo siento, lo siento, Santana, fuck your sorry!" He raised his voice, "¿Sabes lo duro que trabajo para llevarte a la escuela, cantando y animando? Muy duro. ¿Y así es como me pagas? ¿Y llegas tarde a casa y tus calificaciones están bajando? (Do you know how hard I work to take you to school, singing and cheering? Very hard. And this is how you pay me? And you're late home and your grades are going down?)"
"Papi, Lo siento, lo haré mejor, lo prometo. Y tuve que caminar a casa así que llegué tarde. (I'm sorry, I'll do better, I promise. And I had to walk home so I was late.)" I tried to reason with him, but there is no reasoning. There never is with him.
"Walk faster next time! I won't put up with this again, Santana. I shouldn't put up with this now! Why should I?" He stepped closer to me and I stepped back.
It kept going like this until I reached a wall, "I-I um...I'm sorry." I said, but it sounded more like a question.
I wish I'd slept at Brit's or Quinn's tonight. Brit is with Artie and Quinn kind of hates me, but they have always been there. God, I'm so stupid I should have stayed with them. FUCK!
Before I saw it coming a swift hand swiped across my face, which was damp from sweat.
I cried out in pain, "Lo siento, Papi, please!"
"You don't deserve my forgiveness. Everything you've ever done has been lazy and bad," He then wrapped his large hand around my neck, squeezed as tight as he could at the moment, and he leaned in close to whisper," Santana hear me when I say this. You are a worthless, disgusting, disappointing, ugly, fucking whore."
He's right...I am a whore. A worthless, disgusting, disappointing, ugly, fucking whore.
Hot tears burns against my now pale skin. His words cutting deep into my soul, breaking me at my very center. Finally, though, after what seemed like years my Papi let go of my throat.
Gasping and coughing for air, my father smirked raised his leg to start kicking me in my stomach. And he did again and again and again until my world went black.
I wake up alone in the dining room right where Papi left me. I crawl towards a chair and pull myself up using the arm of said chair. Pain immediately shoots through my body. Walking through the kitchen, glancing at the time, I hold onto the rails and make my way to my bedroom.
Stripping myself of my Cheerios uniform, including my high ponytail, I grab my phone and start checking my messages.
I need to take a shower and clean these wounds. Hopefully, my ice packs have frozen again from last night. Oh, messages.
Britt Brat Love That:
Hey Sanny, can you take me to school tomorrow? Lord Tubbington stole my keys again. :(
Thanks love you, B.
Lucy Q my Juicy Boo:
Hey S. don't forget we have practice in the morning tomorrow.
Don't be late bitch, Q.
Santana Silly Banana:
Sure, Britt, I'll drive you. Also Lord T. doesn't have your keys. Remember you left your car over at Quinn's when you two had that sleep over a couple days ago.
Love ya 2, S.
Santana Silly Banana:
K.
I won't bitch, S.
I send Quinn the last text and get ready to throw the phone on the bed, when it buzzes.
Lucy Q my Juicy Boo:
Why are you texting me back at 1 in the morning, go to sleep.
Q.
Santana Silly Banana:
Why are you awake at 1 in the morning, got to sleep.
S.
Lucy Q my Juicy Boo:
Bitch.
Q.
Santana Silly Banana:
Back at ya.
S.
